Two old horses
The house shines, picked out by early light
I am trying to remember, your hair
How I might die while gardening, bending for peas
He only said fuck off the once
She wants to find a man who dances, straight, and tall
We are what we abandon
Allegedly, we are mammals, our brains are split
What else is there to say? We tried
Projectile vomiting Newcastle Brown
A mother digs a hole in a garden
I turn my collar up, shrug on
Mere ugliness is no excuse. It needs more
When does a mother stop to become pretty?
Money on wires, buzzing
We are building a fence, but is it strong enough?
A grandfather, a quiet kitchen, an open razor
They put the dead baby on a newspaper
We could hang
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